


come back home

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 00:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14557176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to watch over the apartment if it wasyourapartment too?”It’s not the first time the topic has come up, but that had always been in passing, jokes here and there about how their blended décor would clash, how they would need to find a place with a separate closet solely for Steven’s jacket collection. But the nervous energy radiating off Steven, the way he’s still worrying his bottom lip and twisting Andrew’s shirt tightly, clearly indicates that this is no joke.Conveniently, Andrew already knows his answer.





	come back home

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for prompt roulette over at the bfu writer's discord for the prompt 'bedsheets.' the general theme of the week was supposed to be Pain Train and instead I ended up writing the most Lite Angst that has ever existed in the world, oops. 
> 
> title borrowed from [the song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNFAtS-AABs) by Arkells (it's an absolutely gorgeous song that is way more angsty than this fic).

Even though he came by the apartment on his lunch break, which was a mere six hours ago, and even though Steven’s apartment is at the very end of the hallway, as soon as Andrew steps out of the elevator, he can hear Riceball plaintively meowing.

He hurries down the hall and shifts his plastic bags of groceries into one hand so that he can dig his spare key out of his pocket, hoping all the while that none of the neighbors have submitted a noise complaint. As soon as he fits the key into the lock, her meows grow even louder, and once he pushes opens the door and steps inside, she starts weaving in between his feet like a pretzel, meowing all the while, completely oblivious to the tripping hazard she poses.

“Hey, beautiful.” Andrew kicks the door shut with his foot, toes his shoes off, and drops the groceries off on the kitchen counter before he scoops her up. She’s so fluffy that it feels like picking up cotton candy, or maybe a literal cloud. “Do you miss your dad?” With a quiet sound reminiscent of a chirp, she snuggles into his chest (and immediately leaves several of her long white hairs behind on his black t-shirt), and he scratches at the top of her head as he heads into the living room to check on her food and water. “Yeah, I know. I miss him too.” 

It’s a little ridiculous to confess it out loud, not just because the only living creature within earshot is Riceball, but also because Steven hasn’t even been gone _that_ long; for the past three days, he’s been in Houston shooting some new episodes for the Lifestyles spin-off, and he’s due to be back early tomorrow morning. While they haven’t been physically together, it’s not like they’ve been wholly lacking in contact either; they’ve texted every day, and Steven has called Andrew every night before he goes to sleep, just to say goodnight and make sure everything is okay at the apartment.

Still, while a few days apart isn’t the end of the world, it’s also not an easy thing to get used to. While Andrew has become more than familiar with Steven’s apartment over the years that they’ve known each other, while he no longer feels like an intruder when he’s alone in one of the rooms, it still feels _empty_ without Steven there to fill the space, like he’s wandering through an art gallery after it has closed its doors for the night. Even with Riceball meowing away, the apartment is still too quiet without Steven clattering around in the kitchen or working on his laptop in bed, throwing out ideas for new episodes or asking for Andrew’s opinion on something. 

It’s not an uncomfortable apartment overall, but without Steven there, it doesn’t feel wholly _welcoming_.

Riceball still has food and water from when he dropped by at lunch so, still holding her in his arms, Andrew heads to the bedroom. He pauses in the open doorway for a moment when he realizes that _something_ seems off, although it takes a moment for what exactly it is to sink in.

Without Steven around, even the _bed_ looks different.

While Steven isn’t exactly _messy_ about how he makes the bed, there’s always something about it that’s a little imperfect, that shows he did it in a hurry five minutes before he ran out the door for work. Usually, one of the pillows is a little crooked, or the blanket is lopsided and dragging on the floor, or the rumpled sheets are visible in the thin strip of space between the top of the blanket and the bottom of the pillows. At the very least, the bed always looks _lived_ in.

But now, the pillows are perfectly squared off, parallel with the edge of the mattress and the line of the headboard, and the blanket is hanging equally over both sides of the bed and smoothed out perfectly, pulled up right to the pillows so the sheets aren’t visible.

Andrew _may_ have overdone it this morning.

He sighs, places Riceball on the mattress and grabs his laptop from where it’s been resting on the nightstand all day. He should probably make dinner soon, but he spent half the day eating in the Tasty kitchen, and the thought of consuming anything else right now is more than a little nauseating, so he throws something on Netflix, idly scratches Riceball’s head, and sends Steven a text asking how his day was. He doesn’t answer right away, but Andrew isn’t surprised; he’s probably running around Houston frantically trying to cram in some last-minute B-roll footage. He’ll probably send Andrew a flurry of texts later, and there will absolutely be at least one picture of a particularly amazing dog or cat that he saw included in the flurry.

Whatever Steven ends up sending him, Andrew is looking forward to it.

&.

He doesn’t mean to drift off, but when he blinks his eyes open, there’s something different about the room. While it’s darker, the sun having gone down while Andrew was asleep, the atmosphere somehow feels _lighter_. It’s also quieter, and when he shifts from his back to his side and looks into the space where his laptop should still be playing the show he was watching, there’s nothing but empty space there.

But a few inches past that space, Riceball is curled up, purring as loud as a boat motor. There’s a long-fingered hand sliding through her fur carefully, ever cautious of the occasional mats that spring up regardless of how often they groom her. When Andrew glances up, Steven is smiling at him, looking very much like he’s on the verge of passing out himself, glasses resting halfway down his nose.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, turning to bury a yawn into his pillow.

“Hey,” Andrew answers, sliding across the bed so that they’re as close as can be, given Riceball’s current position. Surreptitiously, he kind of wants to pinch himself, just to make sure that this isn’t an incredibly vivid dream or some kind of food poisoning brought on by the afternoon’s taste tests, but before he can do so, Steven slides his hand away from Riceball’s fur and tangles their fingers together, which has the same effect of a pinch and absolutely none of the sting. “When did you get back?” 

“Like half an hour ago. I wanted to surprise you.” 

“I _am_ surprised.” The lack of attention causes Riceball to wriggle out from between them with possibly the most disgruntled sound Andrew has ever heard a cat make, but he takes advantage of her absence by moving even closer, until their legs can tangle together as thoroughly as their fingers.

“Yeah, but you were supposed to be _awake_. I had a whole plan. I was going to sneak up on you in the kitchen.”

Andrew laughs and slides his hand free from Steven’s so that he can push Steven’s glasses up his nose. Once that’s done, he drops his palm to the side of Steven’s face and drags his thumb along Steven’s cheekbone. “Have you ever successfully managed to sneak up on anyone in your entire life?”

“I’m offended that you have no faith in me.” The bright grin lighting up Steven’s face erases any potential seriousness in the words, and Andrew rolls his eyes, even though he’s wearing a grin of his own to match Steven’s. 

“Alright, fine. Let’s say, in some alternate dimension, you _did_ manage to sneak up on me. Then what were you planning on doing?”

“Making out with you,” Steven answers with a slight shrug as he drops one hand to Andrew’s hip. “I’ve got a few days to make up for.”

“Well, I have good news for you then.” Steven’s too close to the edge of the bed for Andrew to roll on top of him without there being a too-high chance that they both end up sprawled on the floor, so he rolls onto his back instead and pulls Steven along with him. “We can make out right here.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Steven says, settling his knees on either side of Andrew’s hips and leaning down. Andrew cranes his head up for a kiss, but instead of meeting him halfway, Steven presses his fingertips to Andrew’s mouth, a silent request to be quiet for a minute. 

Andrew isn’t exactly proud of how much the sound that leaves his throat resembles a whine, but sue him, he’s missed Steven.

“There _was_ another part to my plan,” Steven continues, and even though he’s still smiling, there’s something unsteady about his voice, something about the way his eyes have shifted to look at a spot just above Andrew’s shoulder, that makes Andrew tense up.

“Yeah?” he asks, splaying his palms on Steven’s thighs, keeping his eyes fixed on where Steven’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. Steven nods but doesn't speak for a few moments, and while each second that passes makes more worry swirl in Andrew’s stomach, he forces himself to stay quiet.

“Yeah,” Steven sighs, dropping his hands to Andrew’s chest and twisting the loose fabric of his shirt between his fingers. “The other part of my plan was...” He trails off again and shakes his head before he continues, the words jockeying for space with each other as they spill out of his mouth, “Wouldn’t it be easier for you to watch over the apartment if it was _your_ apartment too?”

The urge to pinch himself returns to Andrew in full force. It’s not the first time the topic has come up, but that had always been in passing, jokes here and there about how their blended décor would clash, how they would need to find a place with a separate closet solely for Steven’s jacket collection. 

But the nervous energy radiating off Steven, the way he’s still worrying his bottom lip and twisting Andrew’s shirt tightly, clearly indicates that this is no joke.

Conveniently, Andrew already knows his answer.

“Only if Riceball is okay with it,” he says, absently sliding his hands up Steven’s thighs, over his hips, and under the hem of his shirt. “You know damn well this is more her apartment than it is yours.” Steven’s mouth splits into the most beautiful smile Andrew has ever seen, and a giddy laugh spills from his lips.

“You’re right.” He leans forward until their foreheads are braced together and laughs again. “But I know she’s okay with it. I already asked.”

“Well then,” Andrew says, chest aching with unadulterated joy, “when should I start packing?”

(Steven gives him an answer that might be _tomorrow_ , but considering the fact that he presses it right against Andrew’s mouth in the second before he starts kissing him in earnest, Andrew thinks he’s forgiven for not hearing it clearly.

Besides, they can always talk about the details and logistics after they’ve finished executing the making out part of Steven’s plan.

They _do_ have three days to make up for, after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
